Page 37 of Drink Up, Darling
‘You can tell me what stuff you like, maybe I can broaden my horizons.’
‘You want to spend more time with me still?’
‘Is that truly such a shock to you?’
‘But I thought… what you said to Godwin…’
“Athens! A gem! You’ve reawakened something in me, ha!” Godwin shouted loudly over the music in his ears. He was shuffling his feet in the slightest effort of a dance.
“You like?” Athens asked, reaching over to Godwin and adjusting the earphones in his ears, their skin touching as hedid so, Dariel noticed. The pair locked eyes for a moment which caused Dariel’s stomach to sink.
Why couldn’t he understand what was going on?
“This really takes me back. Ha! I’m in my early thirties again. I’ve not heard this song since…” Godwin’s face dropped slightly.
Athens wasted no time in preventing the negative dwelling again. “I’ve got a list of bands you must listen to, very similar vibes, but all doing something new and unique. There’s a record shop not too far from here I don’t think. We should go some time, after I get my friend to fix your player of course, which…” Athens wandered over to the record player and inspected the make and model, flicking his eyes over parts and playing around with the tonearm, likely trying to figure out the issue, “should be an easy fix. I’ll get my mate to take a look…”
Finally, Dariel understood. This was all part of Athens’ plan. He never intended on killing Godwin. Only to show him how worth life could be living, even if it was just the small things.
Godwin didn’t seem to acknowledge what Athens had implied. That he would be here past this evening. He was still clutching onto the iPod with a smile across his face, mind wandering.
Huh.
Their next endeavour of the evening was the wardroberoom.Athens insisted the three of them had a look around, calling it a fun exercise in learning more about Godwin whilst it also being ‘a fashion designer’s dream’—he glared at Dariel as he said the last part.
Godwin unlocked another door further up the landing and Dariel’s first thought was one of relief—that this room actuallydid seem used. Lived in. Not quite the shrine of halcyon days the record room had been.
If the original plan had turned out to be real, Dariel thought he would have rather enjoyed coming up with a new wardrobe for his host. Godwin already had style—a rather attractive one too—all beiges and browns. Green braces, waistcoat, and corduroy trousers—the post-war look Dariel grew up around. It was oddly comforting to see an entire wardrobe full of the clothes of his time as a human. Hangers of well-worn and appreciated items, not stuck in the back of an antique shop or on display in educational visitors’ sites. Without even thinking, Dariel traced his fingers over the shirts in the mahogany wardrobe closest to him, flitting his gaze to the hat boxes and polished shoes at the foot of the cupboard. His chest fluttered.
“I’m quite… different to you both, as you can see. I never enjoyed the lavish life of experimenting with accessories and such, though I wish I had.” Godwin had positioned himself on the stool beside the dressing table in the far corner. The light buzzed above them.
“Nonsense. I adore vintage,” Athens said, hands in the pockets of his low-rise trousers. Dariel caught the briefest glimpse of skin where the other man’s top had risen slightly, the material hugging his waist, defining the slight curve of his hips. Dariel quickly snapped his gaze back to the clothes in front of him, teeth biting into his lip. Athens wandered over to the single window and began looking out into the evening rain. It was growing quite late, though Dariel hadn’t checked the time for quite a while. He continued to rummage.
Then he saw them. Right at the back of the wardrobe.
“Oh, Godwin!” Dariel beamed, carefully pulling out the polished brown brogues he’d found, holding the soles with care. “I used to have a pair exactly like these!”
“You did?” Godwin shot up and walked over to get a closer look. “Oh, I used to love those shoes. Early sixties I think, they were my fathers.” His voice was ever so slightly bitter at the mention of his family, though it seemed his thoughts were growing far beyond that now. “Try them on! What size are you?”
They should be the right size.
Dariel jumped over to the cushioned bench against the window and began to try them on. They wouldn’t fit his attire at all, in fact looked rather silly, but joy flooded his senses as memories came flooding back…
Annette.
Dariel gulped, a lump forming deep in his throat. He looked down at the brogues on his feet, dizziness whirling around him like a storm.
“My wife got me these… as a wedding present,” he heard himself say. “I lost them in the… there was a fire.”
“Oh, oh, Dariel.” It was Godwin’s sympathy he heard first, the human stepping over and bending to his knees in front of him. “Forgive me, if I’d known…”
Instead of letting the memories consume him though, he frowned. “Whatever do you have to be sorry for? I pulled them out, I wanted to remember… They made me happy.”
‘We can change rooms if you’d rather, darling?’
Dariel swallowed hard again and looked up to where Athens stood, both men positioned rather close to him now, modelled in expressions of melancholy.
Darling. He said it again. And again. He keeps saying it.
